


We Bury the Past

by panther



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-10
Updated: 2014-10-10
Packaged: 2018-02-20 15:30:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2433779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panther/pseuds/panther
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are many sides to Draco and after forty years, Harry still isn't sure which side is the real Draco. Harry has spent years trying to forget how close they really got in sixth year, his darkest secret, trying to forget about Draco though he remains captivated by him. Now, as their sons grow closer and the two men and their wives await their return from their fourth year, a conversation must take place and it doesn't go the way Harry thought it would as they are forced to remember the past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Bury the Past

Draco Malfoy was still an enigma to one Harry Potter.

Even after nearly forty years of knowing him. There were two very different sides to him that made it unbelievably hard to understand him. There was the spoilt brat he met in a cloak shop when he was eleven years old and naive with no idea of the world he was entering and the danger that entailed. The brat who told him the only person he remembered being nice to him was scum. The brat who didn’t even know who he was and for a short glimpse of time that they could never ever get back, wanted to be his friend.

Rather, he wanted to be the equivalent of his friend. Draco Malfoy didn’t have friends. They were a weakness he wasn’t allowed to have. That had been made perfectly clear to Harry after the war when Draco disappeared into what was left of his elitist pureblood society, quietly marrying and not even attempting to re-integrate himself into the mainstream wizarding world.

Harry had never been sure why that bothered him so much. Draco was a self-absorbed twat, but a twat who had played a huge part in the downfall of Tom Riddle, whether he was aware of it or not. Harry couldn’t help but feel an attachment to that. Among other things. Other reasons.

Then there was the other side of Draco. The boy who was moulded to his father’s will. Not given a chance to be, who he wanted to be. He wasn’t allowed to think or feel, but programmed to respond in the manner befitting of a Malfoy. 

Harry grew up without a family but perhaps he was the lucky one. 

Back then, back then when it really mattered, back then when he could have done something, that idea would have made Harry ill. He had no parents, how could that possibly be good? But his parents married because they loved each other. Draco’s married because they were pure and rich and society said. 

Harry couldn’t help but feel a slither of remorse and pity in his guts for what had happened to Draco and what he himself had done to Draco. Albus was in Scorpius’ year at school and though he tried to hide it, Harry was aware the pair were friends. It made him wonder about if things could have been different if Draco and himself were not caught up in a war that was not of their creation. Would things have lasted, survived the unnatural strain?

It made him wonder if Draco could have been saved from himself if he was lucky enough to know people like the Weasleys who would have taken him in and welcomed them into their home. Harry had that, because he had no one else. At school, it would have seemed Draco had everything and now he had nothing, a tarnished reputation and what was left of his family fortune.

Perhaps if he had had a chance. But the world didn’t stop because of maybes or what ifs. Draco Malfoy was who he was and there was nothing Harry Potter could do about that. His family was locked away under the gaze of the Ministry, unable to do as much as take a holiday without being humiliated by having to ask first. No one was more aware of that than Harry, he was the one who signed the permission slips. He who played god with the simplest aspects of their lives.

Harry had the life he had always wanted. Wife, three kids, loving god son, best friends, parents who doted on him even if he was married to their only daughter. He had the only job he had ever wanted, he had changed the world for the better in so many ways and perhaps most importantly to him, was that to his family, he was ‘just Harry’. 

Yet standing on the platform, watching Draco lean against a stone pillar, waiting for his son’s return from his fourth year at Hogwarts, Harry couldn’t help but feel that he was missing something.

Happiness maybe. Because Draco didn’t look happy. He looked almost miserable to be frank and it almost made Harry feel bad too. It got him thinking though. He couldn’t remember the last time Draco had looked truly happy, not a mask, not amused and not smirking, but smiling, happy. Not for a long time, before their worlds crashed and burned, one to be reborn, one seemingly to remain in ashes.

At school it was always sarcastic, ridicule, a mask of knowing his superiority over his peers. Nothing seemed real to Harry anymore when he looked back on it. Had Draco’s entire life been some sort of twisted facade.?Was the real Draco Malfoy the boy who had borrowed his mother’s wand for school, searched for Harry but accepted his help on pain of a very imminent death and choked back sobs on the seventh floor as only one of his companions escaped the fires that yearned for their already tarnished souls?

Harry hadn’t bothered himself with wondering before, not when he had sat in the kitchen of his home, glass of fire whiskey in front of him, the creaking of the old Black home the only sounds as he sat in the darkness, pondering every face he hadn’t been fast enough to save. Every child who was left without a parent, every mother who lost a son. Draco Malfoy and his family, a family who had lost just as much if not more than many others, despite which side of the conflict they were on, never ever passed through his troubled mind.

He could almost see right through the facade of Draco Malfoy and he wasn’t sure he was very happy about that.

It was easier to believe Malfoy was evil, bread to destroy.

Yet his eyes reflected the same fear of his child returning from school as Harry’s did. The fear that his son would be different, not the same child he had ushered onto the train with moments to spare nine months before. He hid it well, but Harry was trained to notice and he, more than any other perhaps, knew how to study the blond. He had spent many an hour following him around the dusty school corridors, too many perhaps.

Yes, he could see the fear in Draco’s eyes, the fear of the unknown and uncertain. Too many years spent on the fringes of society and now, as he awaited the son he had thrust into a place where his name wouldn’t protect him anymore, but instead be his biggest challenge, the target he would adorn for another three years, Draco was overcome with fear, because things were out of his control, and the last time things had been out of his control, he had nearly lost everything.

Harry felt pity well in his chest, crushing his lungs and almost making him gasp for air but he pushed it back. His corner of the platform, shrouded in semi-darkness and shielding him from the public who would only fawn over him, seemed allot colder all of a sudden. He turned to smile at his wife, taking in her stunning flowing red hair and easy smile. Ginny was calm. Ginny was safe.

Maybe too safe.

But he didn’t want to go there, he didn’t want to think about that. What might have been, could have happened, should have occurred if they weren’t who they were and didn’t grow up when they did.

He looks back over and Draco catches his eye, nods in his direction, swift, direct. His frail waif of a wife appears beside him, pulling her jacket tighter around her shoulders as if she is nervous. She has every right to be. People know who they are. You can’ hear it over the hum of noise as hundreds of parents, aunts, uncles, grandparents and guardians wait on the train, but Harry knows there are plenty whispers in the air about the Malfoys. It is then that Harry gives a mental jolt and realises another reason why Astoria is so nervous. She is wearing muggle clothes.

Harry blinks, as if he isn’t quite sure, but indeed, the trousers appear to have a more modern appearance, her jacket stands out as similar to the ones he saw in the catalogue Ginny has borrowed from Hermione to try kit the kids out in muggle clothes so they could muck around in London without having to worry about standing out. Draco is wearing black jeans Harry notes, not the trousers he thought he was. It seems odd, they have never been dressed this way before, even if they had appeared minus their cloaks to prevent them causing a scene on the muggle side of the platform. Harry doesn’t know what to make of it all. Do they plan to venture in muggle London?

Questions burn behind his jade gaze and he glances at the clock on one of the great pillars, twenty minutes at least until the train will arrive. He has inside information that the train left late, some kids and WWW fireworks. Neville hadn’t been impressed, Harry was just glad it didn’t involve one of their lot.

“Gin?”

“Hmmm?”

She turns from Fleur to talk to him but he keeps his eyes fixed on Draco. If she notices this, she doesn’t say anything and for that, Harry is grateful,

“Scorpius might be around this summer right?”

She folds her arms, her own eyes darting across the platform and ponders her response, worry creeping into her voice,

“I would suppose so. Al loves to have him round. You know they don’t have the biggest social circle outside the family, it’s hard to be Scorpius with his father and Al, well, it’s not easy being him either. They really only have each other as friends so it would make sense for Scorpius to be around ours. Why?”

It is suspicion now and Harry flashes her a smile he hopes will still make her knees tremble, all too aware of how like her mother she can be,

“I feel like, well, the boy is over allot and against my better judgement, Al has been at their place, but we have never spoken about it. The boys will be near fifteen soon, we should be able to be polite. I’m going to go and say hello.”

Ginny’s eyes widen and her arms slip to her sides,

“What?!”

The couple in front of them turns around but Harry pays them no mind,

“Come on Gin. You know how much it hurts Al that things are like this. We are all adults now. We should try to...”

“What? Forget what an arrogant bastard he is?”

Harry closes his eyes, lifting his hand up to rub at his eyes, pull his glasses off for a second and pinch the bridge of his nose. Things are not taking the course he hoped they would,

“Ginny. This isn’t about us, this is about the kids, children who are still suffering because of what our generation did, right or wrong. I am going to talk to Malfoy.”

Ginny looks at him with calculating eyes. She knows there is something he isn’t telling her, but he doesn’t know what that is himself so there is no way he can tell her and somehow, she gets that.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

She doesn’t want to go with him. It’s painfully obvious with every syllable and Harry would never ask that of her but she offered and that means the world.

“No. I’ll be fine. Sorry I interrupted your conversation, I’m sure you are dying to hear what Fleur has to say. I’ll only be a moment.”, he teases, trying to get rid of some of the tension, and it works because Ginny just rolls her eyes and turns back to their sister-in-law.

He watches her for a moment and then crosses the platform to Draco and Astoria, fully aware of the eyes that watch his progress.

“Draco”

If Draco is surprised by his appearance, he doesn’t show it, he merely shifts to face Harry, Astoria falling into place at his side like in a well rehearsed play, but Harry isn’t sure anyone gave him a script,

“Harry. My wife of course, Astoria.”, he says, tilting his head in Astoria’s direction who smiles politely and Harry is struck by how warm her smile it, certainly warmer than he anticipated.

“ It has been a long time.”

“Perhaps too long.”

Astoria frowns and Harry realises she is just as in the dark about the past they tried to bury as Ginny is.

“Your boy, Scorpius, he speaks highly of you. He is a great young man, we enjoy having him over.”

“Thank you!”, Astoria beams, motherly pride rolling off her in waves and Harry is quite sure that this is the most animated he has ever seen her, “ Al is a great boy too. Very chatty, great company. I look forward to his visits. He and Scorpius...they balance each other out well.”

Harry takes in her words, professional mind working over time. He is grateful for her enthusiasm. It is a nice way to smother the tension to the background.

“Indeed. I was just saying to Ginny, they interact so much, yet us so little. I thought the time for owl interaction was over, that I should say hello. As you can see though, there are many members of my family here today, Ginny is occupied. It’s just me.”

He notices the wrinkle in Draco’s nose, his distain at the size of Harry’s family evident. In a way that amuses Harry, because if it were not for war and stupid mistakes, perhaps the Black family would still be the force it was, large and powerful as the Weasleys are now. It also amuses him that some things never change, and that is a comfort, of nothing else. He edits the truth about Ginny for his own benefit but he knows the Malfoys are smart enough to hear what was not said, but neither remarks and both remain polite.

It is the perfect social word game, a game Harry does not play often, though knows how to play well.

“Of course. We understand.”, Draco drawls, “ And of course, we look forward to more of Al’s visits this summer. The boys are ridiculously close, joined at the hip perhaps, perhaps joined elsewhere but one can never be sure, and as parents, well, with our history, I am sure it will be a long time before we know for sure.”

Astoria gasps through her prefect pureblood lips and Harry purses his to hold back the remark biting at his tongue. Astoria realises what he implies and it shocks her, Harry realises what he implies and it reminds him why he doesn’t like Draco. Why it never worked. Why he left him in the first place, why he had stalked him for nearly a year.

Of course, that had gone wrong and the greatest man Harry ever knew lost his life, but for a few blissful months, behind the unhealthy obsession to know what Draco was doing when he wasn’t with him, they had been happy. No one ever knew. No one ever could. They couldn’t understand how Harry would balance a girl who he craved, a boy he couldn’t get enough of, a situation that drove him insane as Draco disappeared for hours on end and his suspicions about him grew and of course, saving the world. No one could ever know. 

“ I am sure they are like all kids, parents don’t need to know. So we don’t, but we are happy that way, so they leave us to our bliss.”

“Indeed.”

The sneer belongs to Lucius, it had always belonged to him, the sneer he was taught to use as a defence, the sneer that was befitting of a Malfoy. The conversation was slipping through Harry’s fingers. He wasn’t sure what he had ever wanted but it certainly wasn’t this. 

He didn’t want to think that without war, without prejudice that could truly hurt, without even enough numbers for things to escalate to violence that a Malfoy and a Potter could be, be anything other than friends, be more.

That wasn’t a road his mind was prepared to wander down.

Even if he had already begun to see the same signs of closeness that Draco so obviously, so garishly alluded to.

“I want the boys to know we talked. I don’t want....we grew up in hard times, silly times and were forced to deal with problems we didn’t create. I guess, on some level, we are all still paying for it now. Maybe we were forced down paths we might not have taken, maybe, maybe secrets meant we didn’t do things we might have, that we didn’t become the people we could have. I don’t want that for the boys.”

He wasn’t sure if Draco was taking his words both ways he meant them. He wasn’t happy about the idea of Al and Scorpius being.....but we wouldn’t let them fail because of things they didn’t create. He wouldn’t let them become himself and Draco. Astoria nodded, eyes glazing and Harry was sure she was remembering the taunts, the way kids travelled in packs for safety, the quiddich games that were not enjoyed but jeered over. Then the death and destruction, the terror, torture and turmoil that scarred their youth.

Draco was remembering stolen kisses behind stone statues and frantic touches that were rushed in bathrooms and secret corridors because someone might find them at any moment. A past they had tried to bury. 

“There is no reason for their generation to suffer because of the mistakes of ours.”

Draco nodded, no sneer this time, his face taught, his balding head making his chin stand out more, making his features harsher. 

“You are right, of course, perhaps, perhaps we could arrange the families to meet , to get along better, Scorpius’ birthday maybe, normally it’s just Al who comes. Maybe this year your wife and yourself will attend? Your other children are welcome of course, Scorpius speaks well of them both. Bridges....they clearly need to be built, before it is too late. I wondered, for years if....but....our standing with society. It could never be I who came to you”, Astoria said, her voice light but her upbringing there, evident, warning.

Harry was struck that maybe she picked up on more than he bargained, but maybe she would ignore it all, maybe she was brought up to do that too. It wasn’t like he could condemn Draco for her ignorance and suspicion, he had left a wife not twenty feet away who he had treated much the same. He too had swept a girl off her feet, given her the life she had always wanted while blocking out the life part of him desperately craved.

But it was too late now. Too late for Harry and Draco. But perhaps not too late for their sons and that was something. They said something was always better than nothing and perhaps they were right,

“That would be wonderful I am sure. As long as Scorpius agrees of course and Al isn’t too embarrassed about dragging the parents along, I am sure it will be a marvellous occasion.”

Draco nodded, his wife beamed and Harry winced. The train whistled in the background and suddenly the platform they had so wonderfully blocked out came back to them all, students spilling forth from the doors of the carriages, the crowd rumbling as parents called out to beaming smiles and laughter.

“It was lovely to talk with you Mr Potter”, Astoria half shouts over the noise before falling into line with the other mothers and going off in search of her son. Harry’s eyes catch a glimpse of red as Ginny eases through calling to Lilly.

Draco nods his head in the direction of a pillar and motions. Harry nods and follows.

“What are you doing Potter?”

“What happened to Harry?”, the younger man mumbled, pulling his glasses from his face to wipe them clean, a nervous habit.

Draco regards him with stormy grey eyes and Harry wondered if he had just dropped his guard, ever so slightly, not enough for anyone else to notice, but Harry had been in that bathroom, just after everything had shattered to pieces, he had seen the broken Draco Malfoy. He was perfectly capable of reading the signs.

“Harry then. I....surely you are not so naive that you can’t see the signs?”

Harry shrugged. Straight to the point. So utterly Draco

“No. I hadn’t. Not consciously but...your remarks shall we say, they brought everything to the front of my mind. I guess, I have....noticed things that....maybe I wouldn’t want to.”

“I have. It....I don’t like it. If they ever knew.”

Harry groaned, his limbs trembling with the urge to throw his hands into the air, to scream, but that would make a scene, and that would destroy everything,

“Knew what Draco? There is nothing to tell! We were kids and it fell apart before we could ever....there is no point in getting worked up about it. Nothing...look....we didn’t do anything that makes what they might have wrong. Who are we to deny them the happiness we couldn’t have?”

He sighs, exasperated, overwhelmed, done in. 

He can see Ginny drifting back towards the family, Lily on one side, James sulking on the other and Al, hovering behind with Astoria and a flash of blond that can only be Scorpius, Scorpius who is wrapped around Al in a goodbye hug that is lasting longer than it maybe should.

They don’t have much time and from the look on Ginny’s face, she too has noticed the closeness between the two boys.

“Ok, I just....if things had been different Harry.....”

Harry’s voice sounds different to his own ears as he speaks,

“We can’t live on what ifs Draco, we never could.”

“So we pretend it never happened? We pretend we didn’t feel?”

Harry looks at Al who has just spotted him, confused as he spots his father with his arch rival of old, his frown deepening as Astoria chippers an explanation of half truths in his ear. He looks towards Ginny who is surveying the situation with more suspicion by the second and feels his world creaking dangerously around the edges.

He takes a step away from Draco, thrusts his hand forward and looks meaningful.

Draco stares at his hand, the vein in his forehead pulsing as he takes it, his hand just as warm as Harry remembers, though it doesn’t surprise him as much now as it did then. Draco isn’t the same, neither is he, but in a way, they will always be connected and never different.

“So we bury the past.”, Draco mumbles as his family moves towards him.

Harry drifts back towards his own while keeping eye contact with the blond, heart finally giving up what was never going to be.

“We bury the past.”


End file.
